


Au Cœur

by gothamurox



Series: Fondu au Noir [2]
Category: DCU
Genre: Awkwardness, Cringey Blanket Cacoons, Fluff, Humor, M/M, OC is Batman, Technically Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Amnesia, Violence against Plants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothamurox/pseuds/gothamurox
Summary: Bruce has lost his memory and now has to reaffirm ties with his family, specifically, fourteen year old Jason Todd. But Poison Ivy is up to something. How will the Wayne family make it through this mess?





	1. New Tidings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnheart/gifts).



The man felt a bit off-balance as he hobbled around the little clinic. His whole body was sore. A part of him wondered what had happened to him, but he acknowledged there were larger mysteries. For example: who even was he? Andrew was trying very hard to help him, filling in gaps in his memory with what he knew. The problem was that the man didn’t have little gaps in his memory; he had a huge, gaping canyon. 

Andrew had been a constant presence for as long as he could remember. When a client appeared and Andrew had to step out, he was alone for the first time in his memory. He wasn’t sure how he liked it. It wasn’t terrible, but it certainly was worse than when Andrew was by his side. It felt too quiet, as if he was supposed to fill the empty space, but lacked the material to do so. 

Andrew rushed back in with a flurry of energy. “Sorry about that, Bruce! It was very urgent--”

Bruce held up a hand to stop him. “I understand. You are a busy man doing good work.”

“And I’m not done.” Andrew was packing a traveling bag. “We’ve got to get you back to your family.”

Bruce nodded. That seemed like a reasonable thing to do with an amnesiac. 

“How are we going to do that?” Andrew wondered aloud.

Bruce pondered the question for a few moments. “Why don’t we just go to my house? You said I’m famous, my address should be public information.”

Andrew snapped finger guns at Bruce. “Brilliant! My car’s not very nice, but it’ll get us there. Let’s go!”

“Don’t you need to man the clinic?” Bruce tilted his head in confusion as he trailed Andrew.

“We are actually out of clinic hours, but I help people if I happen to be here.” Andrew pulled on his coat and grabbed his keys. “C’mon, Bruce.”

Bruce nodded.

 

The drive out to Wayne Manor was alarming. Andrew lived in a poorer area, and seeing the landscape not-so-gradually change to reflect the socioeconomic levels of the people living there startled him, even though, he reasoned, he must have seen the sight before. The rolling hills of the pseudo-suburban neighborhood occupied by only the wealthiest of Gotham came into view. They cruised up to the largest and most ostentatious house, or at least they tried. Surrounding the extensive grounds was a tall, decorated gate that blocked their path. 

“Shoot.” Andrew muttered. 

“Drive up to the speaker.” Bruce directed. “If this is my house, I can buzz us in.”

It worked, and a young man of about eighteen years of age greeted them at the door. 

“Bruce!” the man shouted. “Where have you been? We’ve been--what happened to you?” He quickly walked down the impressive front stair. “You’re covered in bruises! What--”

Andrew positioned himself partially between Bruce and the man.

“He’s not feeling the greatest right now. He really needs to rest--”

“Who are you?” the young man interrupted. 

“I’m a doctor. Specifically, my specialty is--”

“Yes, yes, but who are you?” the man broke in again.

“Uh, Andrew Black?” Andrew was taken aback.

The young man narrowed his blue eyes at the doctor. Bruce decided it was his turn to interrupt the conversation. But what to say? Honesty is always good, he thought. Well, here we go.

“Who are you?” Bruce asked the youth.

The man started. “Bruce? What’s going on?” He strode forward and twisted Bruce’s head so that he could check his pupils. “No concussion.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “His only symptom seems to be amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” the man turned to him.

“Complete loss of memory, but no loss of practical knowledge as far as I could tell.” Andrew said apologetically.

The man turned back to Bruce and examined him closely, as if the amnesia would have left a visible mark. “Bruce? Is it true?” 

The dark haired man looked defeated. Bruce’s heart ached. He wished he could tell him that it was all a rather cruel prank, that the man he knew was still there. “I remember nothing, I’m afraid.” The man’s face broke. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say that. You’re the one that’s lost your memory.” The man was still clearly distraught. Bruce wasn’t sure what to do; he didn’t know this young man, he didn’t even know his name. “Well,” the man gathered himself. “I suppose you should come in.”

 

Dinner was an awkward affair. Andrew had tried to politely excuse himself, but Bruce had refused to let him go. The young man had introduced himself as Richard “Dick” Grayson, Bruce’s ward of eleven years. Before the meal had begun, Dick had gone upstairs only to reappear with a boy around fourteen. He stood to the side until Dick called for Jason to join them at the table. Jason had obviously been informed of Bruce’s current state if the wary looks he kept shooting him were anything to go by. Now they were all sat around an overly large mahogany table where the loudest sound was the regular clanging of silverware against plates. No one spoke, because what do you say to a man that doesn't remember you? 

Bruce felt terrible for causing all this and attempted to apologize. “I'm really sorry for this--”

“Stop trying to say you're sorry.” Dick broke in. Bruce looked down at his plate. Andrew glanced around. The silence became even more tense. 

“So what are you going to do?” Jason spoke up. He looked Bruce challengingly in the eye. “You don't remember anything so you can't run the company. What are you going to do?”

Bruce didn't know what to say. Dick responded without hesitation. “He's going to stay home. If this proves to be a long term problem, we'll start teaching him what he needs to do for the company, either for his continued leadership or a transfer of power. Right now,” he looked Jason in the eyes. “we wait.”

Bruce suddenly felt the profound loss of control he had over his own life, but could not protest it. If he did not even know his options, how could he choose a good path? 

Jason was scowling over his food. Dick’s speech had felt too much like a put down to the boy. Bruce nudged him and smiled, trying to cheer him up. Jason looked at him cautiously. 

 

Dinner eventually ended, as all things do. Bruce was grateful. He knew he needed to get to know these people he called family, but for now he had yet to acclimate to the setting, much less its furnishings. The house still felt odd, as if he didn't spend much time there. Bruce wasn't sure where he'd be if not in the house. Perhaps his job? He'd been told he ran a company, and that must take a lot of work. Was he rarely ever home? That could be the case. Jason was rather uncomfortable with his presence after all, but that could just be due to the fact that Bruce currently didn't remember him. 

Bruce thought until the early hours of the morning, theorizing about the man he had been and, hopefully, would soon be again. It was only after he wondered if he should mourn for this temporary self he was, as it would soon perish, that he decided it was time for him to go to sleep. 

 

He woke as the sun rose, simultaneously tired and motivated. He went downstairs and began to cook breakfast for the four of them. Last night, Andrew had once again attempted to leave, but this time it was Dick who stopped him. He told the doctor that having him around the house to watch over Bruce for any other side effects would be very helpful, and so the doctor once again stayed. Bruce was glad; Andrew had acted as a buffer between him and the boys, and he currently needed that crutch. He hadn't found his balance with them yet. With Andrew, it was easy, though Bruce wasn't sure what ‘it’ was. 

His musings were cut off as Jason ran into the kitchen. “Pancakes? Awesome!” He grabbed a stack and settled down at the counter. 

“Are you going to school today?” Bruce asked. 

“No,” Jason gave him a look. “It's Saturday.” Jason went back to devouring his pancakes. “But Dick is going into Wayne Enterprises to ‘tie up some loose ends,’ he says. Dunno what that means.” 

Bruce nodded, similarly lacking the knowledge of what Dick would be doing, but having blind faith that it'd work out. 

“I know you don't realize this, but Dick usually isn't home. Your timing was great.” Jason continued, but then made a face. “Or not.”

Bruce made an inquisitive noise. 

“Dick’s here to tell you that he dropped out of college.” Jason ate a pancake before going on. “Kinda something you want your dad to know, right? He was ready for a fight, but then you came in all…” Jason gestured at Bruce. “So he's gotta put that on hold. Reschedule your all’s whole blowout until you're better.”

“We were going to fight?” Bruce flipped a pancake. 

“You guys fight all the time.” Jason shrugged. “It's just what you do.”

Bruce let out a sad ‘oh’ as he took another pancake off the stove. 

“Can I have more pancakes?” Jason asked hopefully. 

“Yes, of course.” Bruce gave him the stack he had been working on. 

At some point when Bruce and Jason were eating, Dick came through. He grabbed a pancake, and then ran off. 

When Jason had his fill of breakfast, he asked Bruce. “What are you doing today?”

“I’m… not sure.” Bruce felt a little lost.

“You can hang with me. I’m not doing anything today.” Jason said innocently.

Bruce smiled. “Sounds good.”

 

“C’mon, you’re almost there!” Jason said encouragingly.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Bruce said nervously.

“It’s not, it’s fun!” Jason smiled widely. Bruce looked over the edge of the window sill between him and Jason. “Worst case scenario, your little doctor’s here. It’ll be fine, Bruce. Live a little.”

Jason beckoned and Bruce took a deep breath. He stepped up onto the ledge, stretching his abused muscles painfully, and hesitated. The distance between Bruce’s roof and Jason’s was only about a foot, but that was one foot too many for Bruce’s liking. He took another breath and jumped. 

He stuck the landing and Jason cheered. Clapping Bruce on the back, Jason said, “Soon enough we’ll be having real fun.”

“If this isn’t ‘real’ enough for you, I don’t know that I want to.” Bruce was shaking and kept eyeing the edge of the roof. “Are you sure this is the only way?”

“No, but it is the coolest.” Bruce got the rather sudden impression that Jason had far too much free time. Maybe he needed to sign the boy up for sports. “No worries, the route’s kinda boring from here.”

“‘Kind of boring’, he says as we trek across a heavily slanted roof top.” Bruce muttered loudly. “What we really need is a path that requires us to complete death-defying tasks of bravery.” 

“Sounds good.” Jason said cheekily. Bruce made a face at him, but then he broke. Their laughter echoed off the rooftop and out onto the grounds. 

“Almost there.” Jason said after they passed what must have been at least the twelfth dormer window sticking out of the roof. He stopped in front of the next one and bent down. He did something with it that Bruce couldn’t see. The window opened up reluctantly, hinges creaking and dust floating out. Jason turned to Bruce and gestured towards it. “Here ya go.”

Bruce glanced in and looked back at Jason. “Thank you so much for this gift. I really appreciate it. Can we go now? I feel like I’m about to sneeze.”

The fourteen year old huffed. “You have to go in, Bruce.” The boy sounded so exasperated, as if Bruce had been the one to drag them up multiple stories and across a roof. 

Bruce looked at him disbelievingly. “In there? It doesn’t seem safe.”

“It’s perfectly fine! Ugh,” Jason moved to enter. “Just follow me.”

“You’re a wreck.” Jason observed. Bruce felt his clumsiness was justified as he had just been kidnapped a few days ago and hadn’t recovered, but he wasn’t going to unload that onto a fourteen year old. Honestly, this whole escapade was a terrible idea, if just because of his current slightly-limited range of mobility, but Bruce wanted to spend time with his son. 

“Why are we here?” Bruce knew Jason wouldn’t just show him an attic. 

“You’ll see.”

“You really aren’t as intriguing as you think you are. I am very tempted to turn around right now.”

“Ah,” Jason spared Bruce a smug glance. “But you aren’t.”

“That's more to do with my goodwill than anything you’ve done.” Bruce was glad Jason was willing to play along with him because the attic was really creeping him out and he needed a distraction. 

“Ingrate.” Jason smiled. “I suppose you may not have noticed, being the uneducated slob you are,” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “But this isn’t just the attic. You see,” he gestured grandly, “we are in a blocked off portion of the attic. This wall--” he patted the dusty wall. “--is where the regular attic stops.”

“You found a hidden section of the house?” Bruce was impressed for a brief second. “How did you find this? If the only way you know how to get here is by the roof…”

Jason grinned.

“You need to take better care of yourself.” 

Jason stopped grinning.

 

Dick seemed to spend most of his time pretending like Bruce didn’t exist, so when Dick approached him, Bruce was surprised. 

“I think there’s something wrong with Jason.” The young man said seriously.

“What? Is he hurt?” Bruce may have panicked a little. He hadn’t been dealing well with responsibility since the incident.

“I...I don’t think so. He’s definitely a little off. Less energetic; less hungry.” Dick was very concerned.

“And he wouldn’t admit if anything was up.” Bruce said gravely. “He’s not the sort.”

“That’s the problem.”

 

“Jason?” Bruce approached hesitantly. After Dick had spoken with him about his concerns, Bruce had started watching Jason carefully. Unfortunately, Dick’s worries were not unfounded; Jason was definitely sluggish and grumpy. Bruce had to talk with Jason about it.

“Yes?” Jason huffed.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe you should go to the doctor--”

“No!”

“But, Jason, hear me out. I’m not doing this to hurt you.” Bruce looked Jason in the eyes and waited till the boy looked back at him before he continued. “You aren’t feeling great, right?” Jason stayed silent. “I want you to feel well. I want you to be happy, and I don’t want your health to impede that, Jason. So please…”

“I really don’t like doctors.” Jason said softly after a minute. 

Bruce was struck with a brilliant idea. “Do you trust Andrew?”

Jason caught on, but he still hesitated. “Yes? I mean, more than most doctors, but still…”

Bruce seized the opportunity. “It doesn’t have to be anything formal. Andrew can just briefly look you over and determine if you need to go to a real doctor.”

“But--”

“It’s either this or you go straight to the hospital.” Bruce said sternly.

Jason pouted, a sure sign that he wasn’t feeling well at all.

 

Andrew had rapidly sent Jason on his way.

“How are you doing, Jason?” the doctor asked. He was a large man, friendly and warm. Jason did not trust him; he shifted in his seat. “Shy, eh?” He chuckled as he rummaged around in a drawer. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you all fixed up. Just give us some time.”

 

The doctor came back with a guarded look. “I’m referring you to a specialist. They’ll run some more tests. I have complete confidence they can help you.” He put down his pen and left. Bruce and Jason exchanged a look.

 

The specialist drew near with a needle glinting in the focused lights of the clinic.

“No!” Jason began thrashing violently. Bruce gently held Jason’s face, forcing the boy to look him in the eye. 

“Jason!” 

He wished Dick was here. 

“You need to do this!”

Dick would know what to do.

“Be strong!” 

Dick knew his brother. 

“This is important.” 

Dick remembered his brother. 

“Do this for me.” 

Dick loved his brother. 

“Do this for Dick.” 

Jason steadily slowed down his struggling until he was just shaking. Bruce hugged him and made comforting noises. 

“Do I have to?” Jason’s voice was quiet and wavering. Bruce was struck by how young Jason was.

“Yes.”

Jason took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, though he couldn’t stop trembling. The specialist started her tests.

 

“Would you like to eat anywhere special?”

Jason picked at the bandage on his arm. 

“Or we could skip dinner and just eat dessert. Do you want ice cream?” Bruce tried again. 

Jason didn’t respond.

 

Dick was actually up early for once. He had the time to wander around the manor, change out the water in a few vases, and straighten up the living room. As he was leafing through the mail, he found a thick envelope from the specialist. He hesitated before opening it. He read it, then he read it again. Bruce happened upon him and when Dick didn’t respond to his entreaties, he took the letter from his hands. He joined him in silence. They stood together, bonding over grief. 

 

The house entered a period of mourning. Dick would not smile. Bruce would not laugh. Andrew did his best to be even less obtrusive than before. It lasted for about three days until Jason had enough. 

“Stop it!” he said, slamming his hands on the table. “Just stop! I’m not dead!” He escaped dinner and ran upstairs.

All was quiet, but then Andrew spoke up. “He’s right, you know. We need to stop.This attitude isn’t helping. By being so negative we are hurting Jason, and hurting his chances…” He went silent.

Bruce was consumed by guilt. He was trying his best but he couldn’t help but hurt those who cared about him. He needed to make this up to Jason. He stood up to go after the boy, but Andrew stopped him.

“This conversation isn’t over, Bruce.” He was firm, and Bruce sat back down. “We need to figure out how to make this a more beneficial environment for Jason.” They nodded. “First…”

 

“Hey kid.” Bruce said gently as he perched himself on the edge of Jason’s bed.

“Don’t call me ‘kid.’” Jason muttered. “You treat me like a child.”

“You’re fourteen.” 

“Yeah, fourteen, not five.” 

Bruce chuckled. He inspected his son, looking for signs of emotional distress. In the time Andrew had spent lecturing the family about how to proceed, Jason had cooled off from his previous anger and now was sullenly flopped out on his mattress. 

“What’d you come here for?” Jason asked his pillow. 

“To apologize.”

“You’re always doing that.”

Bruce shrugged, and, smirking, said. “Sorry.” 

“Ugh!” Jason exclaimed, struggling not to smile. “Why are you so awful?”

“Can’t help it.” Bruce smiled. “Do you want to come back downstairs? We are having brownies.”

 

The doorbell rang, and, as Bruce was preoccupied with Jason and Dick was busy making the brownies, Andrew was the one to answer it. On the porch stood a beautiful woman; unfortunately, she was one that Andrew knew. He exited the house and hurriedly closed the door behind him. 

“What are you doing here, Poison Ivy?” he asked angrily. 

“I need Bruce Wayne’s biometrics.” she said casually. “Turns out there’s a second mass disseminator with some intense security measures, Andy, and I need to get past them. So get out of my way.”

Andrew glanced back at the door. “Could you do this some other time? They just found out their kid’s got a serious illness.”

“What about you just give me what I need so I can leave?”  
Andrew considered it, but, ultimately, this wasn’t his decision.

“Do it for me? I know we didn’t end well, but there was something there, Andy. Do it for what we had.” she added.

Andrew went back inside. Bruce was standing with Jason in the foyer talking about the apparent lack of quality of brownies made by Dick. “Hey, Bruce, I need to talk to you for a second.” He pulled the man away. “Poison Ivy’s here. She’s the one that kidnapped you, and now she wants to have your biometrics. She won’t leave until she gets them--”

“Okay. She can have them.” Bruce said steadily. “I don’t want to upset the household further.” His face screwed up in confusion. “Wait, how do you give someone your biometrics?”

“It depends on which biometrics you’re using.”

“Okay. I’ll go talk to her.” Bruce said, nodding.

“I’ll go with you. Don’t want a repeat of the hostage situation.”

Bruce opened the door to see Poison Ivy looking very bored while examining his landscaping. 

“Um… what do you need?”

She turned to him, smirking. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

“Uh…”

 

Bruce and Andrew hovered in the foyer.

“That was weird.” Bruce said.

“Yeah.” Andrew agreed.

“She left?” Jason popped up out of nowhere. Bruce was startled, but then he nodded. Jason turned to Andrew. “Aren’t you going after her?”

The two adults gave him confused looks.

Jason’s head swiveled as he look back and forth between them before settling on Andrew. “You’re Batman, right?” Andrew hesitantly nodded. “Then you’re going after her, right?” Andrew nodded again, this time more sure of himself.

“I need to go, Bruce. See you later.” Andrew said as he left the foyer.

Bruce was in shock. “What?’

Jason gave him a confused look. “You didn’t know? I thought everyone knew.”


	2. Dreams and Nightmares

In the living room sat a giant cocoon of blankets, one piled on top of the other, lit only by the everchanging light of the television screen. It was dark outside and the moon and stars swirled to pass the time, but time passed differently in this room, appearing and disappearing on a whim. It may have been seconds or millennia, but it all felt the same to the ensconced man. He would be here until he needn’t be anymore. As it was, time and space had collapsed into a vast morass--

“That you, Bruce?” Jason asked, his head peeking into the pile of covers.

“Why don’t you call me dad?” Bruce asked suddenly.

“You aren’t exactly the most cogent right now, huh?” Jason moved to sit down next to the lump that was Bruce.

“Nice word.” Bruce murmured, as if speaking to himself. “Not exactly ‘dad,’ but whatever.”

Jason rolled his eyes, not that Bruce could see it. “We just aren’t like that.”

“Why?” Bruce asked childishly, pouting.

“You aren’t my dad.” Jason pointed out.

Bruce looked hopelessly lost.

“You forgot that. I can’t believe you forgot that.” Jason said in wonder. He shook his head, smiling. “ Actually, I can. Did you also think Dick was your son?” Bruce looked sheepish. “But he’s so old!”

“I don’t remember anything! For all I knew, he could have been.” Bruce said defensively. He huddled his blankets closer. “No blankets for you ‘cause you’re being mean to me.”

Jason snorted. “Keep your blankets, Bruce.”

“There you go again!” Bruce said accusingly.

“What?”

“‘Bruce!’”

“That’s your name.”

“Yes, but though I’m not your dad, I am your dad!”

“You really want me to call you ‘dad?’” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Yes!”

“Okay, dad.” Jason grimaced. “That was weird.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Bruce was beaming.

“Why were you down here in the first place?”

Bruce shifted around his cocoon. “I’m waiting for Andrew to get back.”

“He may not even come back here tonight. He could go back to his normal place.”

“Where’s that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh. I thought this may be another thing everyone but me knew.” 

“How do you know Andrew?”

“I don’t remember--”

“Obviously.”

“Thank you, Jason. I really appreciated that.”

“If I have to call you ‘dad’ you should have to call me ‘son.’”

“Sounds fair. Anyways, though I don’t remember, Andrew said that he met me at Wayne Foundation. He was applying for something.”

“Oh. That’s boring.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Dunno what I expected. Something more intense, I guess. He is Batman, after all.”

“Why are you down here, son?”

“That is also weird.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Jason shrugged uncomfortably. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is it your medicine? One of its side effects is insomnia, right?” Bruce was clearly concerned.

Jason shrugged again, even more uncomfortable. Bruce opened a flap into his blanket pile. Jason climbed in.

A few moments later, Jason spoke up. “This is awkward.”

Bruce shrugged. “I’m going to sleep.”

 

Bruce jerked awake. Jason was cuddled next to him inside of a rather impressive amount of covers. Bruce carefully extracted himself, making sure not to wake his son. He smiled, remembering the conversation from last night.

He wandered into the kitchen only to find Andrew cooking. Suddenly he felt overwhelmingly awkward. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Omelets and bacon.” Andrew looked up and grinned. He started to make a joke, but one thing was weighing on his mind. He chewed his lip. “Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“I talked to one of my friends in the medical field. He’s involved in a lot of treatment testing, and he has a trial going on right now that could really help Jason.”

Bruce was quiet. “I don’t want my son to by the subject of some unproven drug--”

“From what I understand the treatment isn’t really drug based, more a mix of surgery and--”

“Oh, that’s so much better!” Bruce said sarcastically.

Andrew stopped. He dedicated a moment to working on breakfast before turning back to Bruce. “So that’s a no for the experimental treatment?”

“Absolutely.” Bruce said.

Jason sluggishly walked into the room, dragging a few blankets with him. “What are you guys talking about?” When no one answered, he decided to do so himself. “I heard you… that experimental stuff… I wanna do it.”

“Are you sure, Jason?” Bruce asked. 

“Yeah.”

Bruce walked till he was in front of Jason and looked him in the eyes. Bruce was still against the idea, but willing to allow Jason to make his own decisions. “This’ll involve more doctors, more needles, more tests… Are you absolutely certain you want this?”

“Yes, dad. I’m sure.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, fine.” 

Andrew continued making breakfast as subtly as he could.

“Can we watch TV, dad?” Jason asked softly.

“Yeah, son.” 

They returned to the wreckage of their former cocoon and turned on the television. The news came up and it was showing clips of a small Wayne Enterprises building and intercutting them with photos of the notorious villain, Poison Ivy.

Bruce went to change the channel, but Jason stopped him. 

The news went on to detail how Poison Ivy broke into the shown building and was confronted by Batman, but ultimately got away. 

Jason twisted around to look accusingly at Andrew. “You let her get away?”

Andrew winked at the boy. “Yep. She got exactly what she wanted.”

Jason became excited, but Bruce was confused. 

“Food’s ready!” Andrew said joyously as he plated the omelets and bacon. Everyone gathered at the table and ate. As Bruce went to eat his second piece of bacon, Jason’s head fell onto his plate. Bruce panicked and stood up, shaking. Andrew was already at Jason’s side, providing first aid. Bruce worked at cleaning his son’s face. He fretted aimlessly, flitting from one place to the next. It wasn’t long before Jason woke back up. He swayed in his chair and Bruce steadied him. 

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked gently.

Jason nodded. “I just want to finish breakfast.”

Bruce hesitantly agreed to do so, but scooted his chair closer to Jason’s, just in case. He knew Jason disliked being weak, and was trying to not treat him as such. 

When they were finished, Andrew stood up. “I’m going to go talk with Dr. Panesh.”

 

The treatments had started and Jason was crankier than ever. He had to wake up early to go to his appointments and they left him feeling damaged. But as the days turned into weeks he showed signs of improvement: his appetite returned, he began sleeping through the night again, and his energy level was increasing. Bruce was delighted, though wary. Jason was running around these days so he couldn’t be too critical. 

Jason wanted to go out today so that he and Bruce could finish their search for Gotham’s best ice cream cake. They were about to head out the door when Andrew came running down the stairs. He rushed around picking up some of his things while speed talking. “Poison Ivy’s back at the main Wayne Enterprises building. She’s got both of the mass disseminator prototypes and she’s going to use them!”

“Didn’t you have a plan?” Jason asked.

“Yes, but I have to be there for it to work!” He ran out the door.

“He’s a mess.” Jason observed. 

“What’s his plan?” Bruce questioned. 

“He messed with the second prototype she took, remember? He told us at breakfast?”

“What?”

“You don’t pick up on anything, do you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bruce asked. “I’m just confused about his plan. I know what I’d do, but what’s he planning?”

“Wait, you have an idea?”

“Well, I know what plan I would use if I were confronting Poison Ivy, yes.”

“What is it?”

“After she came here so that she could take the prototype, I accessed the Wayne Tech R & D records for ongoing projects and looked at the specs. It’s set up to be immobile, so the techs added distance control capabilities, allowing for the disseminator to, for example, be in the middle of a field while a user tells it to water their crops from inside their home. So I’d just use R & D’s programmed universal override for all Wayne Tech products--”

“Bruce. Andrew’s not going to know about the override. Batman’s not going to know about the override. That’s not going to be in his plan, and it needs to be.”

“But I can’t contact him, plus I can only use the override while in my Wayne Enterprises office or in R & D.”

“Then you need to make your way to Wayne Enterprises and help him!” Jason insisted. “He’s probably got some dumb plan like...I dunno...a sedative or something. He needs your expertise!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go downtown.”

“Take the Jeep!”

“Why?”

“It’s my least favorite.”

“Fair enough.”

 

Traffic was strange, Bruce mused. Usually it was very stop and go, but today cars clustered in the lanes heading away and around the Wayne Enterprises building, leaving Bruce’s path a mix of very busy and absolutely clear. For all that he was headed to his office he wasn’t really sure of his plan. If he was being honest, it seemed kind of awful. Show up at Wayne Enterprises--where Poison Ivy and Batman were fighting--and break into his own office so that he can hopefully neutralize the mass disseminators? He didn’t have the experience for this. It obviously wasn’t going to work. But Jason had insisted this would help, and Bruce didn’t want anyone to get hurt, so he’d do his part. He hummed a happy little tune as he searched for a parking spot. He supposed that he could just leave his car in the middle of the road since he was trying to save lives, but that seemed rude. He didn’t want to block traffic. 

 

He took the stairs, eventually reaching his office. After going through all his security, Bruce headed straight to his desk. He puttered around while his computer booted, looking through the decorations he had put up, seeing photos of Jason and Dick when they were younger along with people he didn’t remember. His eyes fell on a photo of Jason that must have been taken within the previous year. Jason was looking annoyed at the viewer, like they were burdening him by taking his picture. Bruce smiled. The computer dinged that it was ready and he sat down. He quickly found himself in R & D’s database and sorted through it until he found the override.

The override itself was limited in its scope, which was part of the reason he thought this plan was a bad idea. The code couldn’t shut off a product, just turn on GPS and send some minor commands, and since the mass disseminators were only in the testing phase their GPS wasn’t fully functional. Most of the stuff he could do wouldn’t be terribly useful. He could tell the disseminators to release whatever they had been loaded with or tell them to stop, but that was pretty much it. If he knew what was going on--

He could! His fingers flew over the keyboard as he called up the security feeds for Wayne Enterprises. Bruce felt validated as he saw that Batman and Poison Ivy were fighting in the lobby. It was difficult to see what was happening, due to the poor quality of the security cameras, but Bruce noticed a few ambitious news networks were capturing the fight as well. He searched for their feeds so he could see the fight better. At long last he settled on NBC’s coverage. 

It looked like Poison Ivy had set up one of the prototypes in the middle of the lobby. It was disseminating some hard to see powder as she and Batman fought. She had the second prototype in her hand and seemed to be struggling to set it up while Batman tried to stop her. The news caster cut into the video to wonder what was in the disseminators and Bruce realized he could find out. He opened up the override command panel again and, after a few seconds, found the answer to his question. Sort of. The first prototype--the one currently disseminating--was loaded with some sort of plant seed. The second had a paralyzing agent. The panel couldn’t tell him anything more specific, something which R & D had planned on working on when they were farther along. 

It seemed time to stop the first machine, so Bruce did. Both Poison Ivy and Batman were startled by the sudden cessation and their struggle paused. Bruce wondered how he could help further. Batman unfroze first and stole the second prototype from her and--oh no. Bruce flinched. That was a mistake.--threw it on the ground hard. It broke, like he intended it to, but as it did so, it released its contents. Bruce rushed to try and send a stop command. It worked but by then he was too late. Batman--Andrew--crumpled to the floor, unable to move. Poison Ivy, who was immune to the effects of the paralytic, glanced over at her felled foe and moved to the first prototype. She tinkered with it for a bit before it started up again. She looked satisfied, but only for a brief moment before Bruce shut it off again. She tried again and Bruce stopped it again. Poison Ivy scowled and picked up the machine from the ground. As she left the building she waved her hands and the seeds that had disseminated around the room suddenly grew into thick vines and began breaking down the columns and walls in the lobby.

“She’s trying to collapse the building on top of Batman!” the NBC broadcaster exclaimed, but Bruce was too busy to pay him any mind. The building was trembling beneath him and he was running as quickly as he could. He jumped down the stairs until a huge tremor travelled the building and the ceiling began to fall in. He exited the stairwell and headed towards where he knew there was a balcony. He reached the railing and looked down over ten stories. Another tremor shook and Bruce realized it was now or never. He went to jump over the edge when suddenly he was jerked away from the building by a strong arm around his waist. Bruce turned to look at his savior only to see a new take on a familiar face.

“Hey.” Bruce said.

“What’s up?” Andrew said casually, smiling beneath his cowl. They swung to the ground. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Trying to help you.” Bruce said embarrassedly. “R & D has an override for the prototypes.”

“Nice.” 

“Jason said you had a plan?”

“It didn’t work out.” Andrew said sheepishly. “Anyways, we’ve got to stop Poison Ivy from destroying Wayne Enterprises!”

“But how?” Bruce asked earnestly.

“...I’m not sure.”

The building groaned. Bruce eyed it warily. “At this point it would have to be demolished anyways.” 

“You think we should just let it fall?” Andrew was surprised.

“If no one would be hurt by it? Yes.” Bruce said. “Though I think we should kill Ivy’s plants.” 

“But how?”

“If we had a mass disseminator it’d be easy.” 

“There’s one in there.” Andrew motioned to the collapsing Wayne Enterprises building.

“One that you broke.” Bruce said dryly.

“Can you fix it?”

“I don’t have any tools.”

“So if you had tools…”

“Probably not. The body’s damaged.”

“So we need Poison Ivy’s prototype.”

“Yeah.”

 

“This is probably where she is.” Batman said as they crept up to a warehouse. 

“Why am I here?” Bruce whispered. “I will not be helpful here.”

“And that’s why you aren’t coming in with me. You will stay out here.”

“In Crime Alley? No, I’m good. I’ll go to a place where I can be useful. Call me when you’re done.” Bruce moved away. “Can I use the Batmobile?”

“No.”

Bruce shrugged. “Had to try.”

 

Wayne Tech’s offsite R & D building wasn’t too far from Crime Alley, oddly enough. Bruce had borrowed a bike and ridden down. The building itself was dead; no one was in. Perhaps they had been earlier, but techs tended to clear out when supervillain stuff went down, due to their propensity for fighting in labs. Bruce walked into the corner office equivalent the techs had and started up the computer. This one booted faster than the previous and he was in quickly. Now all he had to do was wait for Andrew to call. 

He perused the literature in the office. A lot of it was tech manuals and scientific journals, but some were binders filled with the information of previous Wayne Tech projects. He pulled the one from 2006 off the shelf. While leafing through it he discovered much of the old tech was housed in the basement. Could any of it be useful? He spun around to his computer and searched the Wayne Tech archives. 

Yes, he thought. That will do. 

 

Andrew was finally calling. 

“Yes?” Bruce answered. 

“I got it. Poison Ivy’s passed out. What should we do now?” Andrew sounded slightly out of breath. 

“Bring it to me. I've got something that could help.”

“I can't leave her alone. She could wake up and order around her plants. Did you see they’d spread all throughout the East Coast?”

“No, I hadn't heard.” Bruce chewed on his bottom lip. “I think I have our solution, but I need the mass disseminator prototype.”

“I’ll send it over.”

“How?”

“I’ve got a volunteer.”

“What--” Andrew hung up. “What on earth did he mean? Volunteer?” Bruce muttered to himself.

It was just a few minutes later when a brightly colored kid dropped from the ceiling, handed him the prototype, and disappeared. Bruce stared at the device. Then he ran down to the basement. After rifling through a few old experiments, he found what he was looking for: an herbicide that never got out of the testing phase. It was proven effective, but the project was cancelled due to lack of interest from investors. 

Bruce packaged the herbicide into the mass disseminator and ran up to the roof. He set up the prototype and hurried back downstairs to turn it on. He smiled as the plant killer spread across the coast.

 

The microwave dinged. Dick opened it up and carefully took out the popcorn. He filled a bowl and took it into the living room where Jason was sat on the edge of the couch, watching the news coverage of the battle at Wayne Enterprises. 

“Where’s Bruce?” Dick asked around a mouth filled with popcorn. Jason did not answer, absorbed in the television. At that moment the camera panned from the falling building to a balcony where a man was. 

“Is that Bruce?” Dick exclaimed. “Oh my god, that’s Bruce.”

Then, after Bruce was saved by the Bat, when the building collapsed: “Oh my god, that’s Wayne Enterprises.”

Dick shoved another handful of popcorn in his mouth. The news caster came on. “We have an update! It seems the plants terrorizing the Northeast are dying. We are looking into the source. Here is local scientist, Luke Paige, giving us the latest theories on what is killing these plants.”

“Well, Jim, it seems like an herbicide has fallen from the sky, leaving a thin film…”

“Are you kidding?” Dick burst out. “It just fell from the sky?”

“It was probably Batman! He must have found something to put in the mass disseminators that would kill all of Ivy’s plants!” Jason exclaimed excitedly. 

“Looks like they caught her too. There she is getting arrested.” Dick pointed out. He reached down for more popcorn, but he was out. “Give me a sec, I need more popcorn.”

Dick got up and went back to the kitchen.

 

“You were brilliant!” Andrew hugged Bruce. “How did you know the herbicide would only kill Ivy’s plants?”

“I wasn’t absolutely certain, but the chemical was intended to target a specific genus which her plants exhibited the characteristics of…”

“Brilliant!” Andrew wheeled Bruce around the small party they had organized to celebrate their victory.

“What was your plan before I showed up?” Bruce ducked out from under Andrew’s arm.

“It had already failed.” Andrew ruffled his hair. “I’d put a sedative in the disseminator.”

“You’re kidding.” Bruce led them over towards the kitchen. “And the kid you sent with the prototype?”

“One of my Robins. A bunch of the neighborhood kids that go to the clinic found me out and they all wanted to help, so I give them small, nondangerous tasks. Mostly delivering messages and that sort of thing.”

“Isn’t that child labor?”

“It’s volunteer hours. Daniel needs ten per semester. I just say they’re helping around the clinic.” Andrew’s phone began to ring. “Let me get this real quick.”

He stepped out.

 

“I’m sorry, Andrew. We don’t know what happened. Nothing like this happened in the earlier trials, nothing even close.” 

Andrew was silent. He had grown cold, even the summer heat could not comfort him. 

“Patient 002 has gone into a coma. 005 is routinely passing out and is bedridden. Everything’s going wrong, and it seems to be getting worse.”

They were both quiet.

“I’m so sorry, Andrew.”

Andrew returned to the party and faked cheer.

Andrew watched Jason carefully from that point on. The boy seemed to be doing fine, but still he worried. A week passed and he became more and more lax about monitoring the boy. He was fine.

 

Jason went to school. He didn’t like it much, said it bored him, but still he went. He couldn’t wait for summer vacation. 

“I want to go to Mallorca.” He declared one evening. 

“Mallorca?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah. They’ve got this mountain range I want to hike; it’s called the Serra de Tramuntana. It’s got caves and beaches--it’s so cool! There’s this one area named after a dragon or something. We can go this summer, Bruce!” 

“Can we?” Bruce mused. “I don’t know… They speak Catalan there, and none of us speak Catalan. Maybe if one of us did…”

“I can see what you are doing, Bruce, but I don’t care. Sure, I’ll learn Catalan, so long as we can go. But you are learning it with me, Bruce. Mallorca, here we come!” He did a ridiculous little air fist bump.

 

“Bon dia. Em dic Jason. Com et dius?” Jason struggled through the foreign words.

“Em dic Bruce. Com estàs?” Bruce responded.

“Um…” Jason ruffled through the phrasebook. “Bé.” He looked up at Bruce to see if he pronounced it correctly. When Bruce nodded in approval, Jason threw the book to the side. “That’s enough for today. Let’s have dinner. I’m starving.”

“If you’re starving, you can cook up something for yourself. Learn to be self-sufficient.”

“I’m already learning another language.” Jason grumbled as he headed to the kitchen.

Bruce followed him and helped Jason make dinner. It was nothing fancy, just some simple paninis. Bruce grabbed some chips and they settled down to eat. Andrew was away working his day job and, because Bruce had returned to his duties as CEO, Dick had moved back to Bludhaven, so it was just them tonight. Jason ate half of his panini before he began to slow. About a half hour later, Jason excused himself to his room.

 

Bruce had been the one to find him. The boy was sprawled out on his bed, his sheets rumpled up around him. His hand was thrown to the side as if reaching for something in his sleep. Unfortunately, the kid would never find what he was looking for.

 

The funeral was held on a Thursday. The day wanted for rain, but couldn’t muster the energy, instead staying cloudy and dreary. The men wore suits that were nearly matching and were united in their grief. The boy’s father threw the first handful of dirt on his undersized coffin between tears.


	3. Epilogue

Bruce rubbed his eyes. It was time to take a break. He stood up from his desk and paced for a bit before collapsing back into his chair. His eyes landed on a photo of Jason. Jason had been twelve when they’d taken that picture. He’d just gotten back from an overnight trip and had been cranky, but Dick had insisted on pictures…

Bruce started. He remembered. Everything from adopting Jason, to taking him to school for the first time, to his last birthday party. He remembered everything. He stared at Jason’s picture, but all he could see was the boy’s pale face staring at him from the inside of a coffin. Tears welled up. His hands shook.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if I made any mistakes. Comments welcome!
> 
>  
> 
> [Edit]  
> So this was inspired by a post that suggested that people in Gotham didn't know Bruce Wayne was Batman and would write fanfiction shipping them. This is that fanfiction.


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